


The Bill Comes Due

by Reiya_Wakayama



Series: The price for the future is always unknown...until the bill comes due [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Lydia is tired of no one telling her anything, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Nematon is alive...in a sense, Out of Body Experiences, Pack Feels, Peter is Not Impressed, Peter is a Little Shit, Sherriff is done with everything, Shit Hitting the Fan, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:13:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27223294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya_Wakayama/pseuds/Reiya_Wakayama
Summary: Erica and Boyd are free and rejoined with the pack. Questions still surround their escape, mainly around Stiles’ supposed assistance. The Alpha Pack threat still looms and what is this dark presence that is coming after the Alpha Pack?
Series: The price for the future is always unknown...until the bill comes due [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1334707
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	The Bill Comes Due

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, an update to this series, what is going on in 2020? XD I've had this mostly finished for a while now but finally got around to finishing it. Betaed by me so probably some mistakes. enjoy. Maybe I'll get on the next part here soon...maybe?

Erica and Boyd are zonked out in a guest room, exhausted but safe. The full moon the night before had been rough on all of them, especially after realizing that they hadn’t been able to change for the last few moons while in the vault. Needless to say, Derek, Isaac and Scott need some new clothes.

He’d sent Scott home this morning, reminding him to keep his senses sharp and to not draw attention to himself. Isaac had volunteered to head to the nearby grocery store for some much needed food.

Derek himself is leaned against the wall, staring out the windows, mulling over everything that had happened in the last few weeks. The Alpha Pack has been suspiciously quiet after Boyd and Erica’s escape, which is worrying. There is still the ever-present ball of worry over Stiles who still shows no signs of waking and trying to figure out what the two meant when they said they saw the human boy. He couldn’t have been there…could he?

He’s interrupted from his thoughts by the door rolling open. That he’s startled shows how distracted he is. Peter just raises a brow at the alpha in response to the glare he sends to his uncle. “Now is that anyway to greet your dear uncle after he’s been gone for three weeks, nephew?” Peter asks, stepping in and stopping, taking a deep breath.

“You found them?” he asks, shocked by the new development.

“They found us,” Derek says, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. “Did you learn anything?”

Peter shuts the door before meandering over the couch instead of answering immediately. Derek glares but refrains from playing his uncle’s game. Seated, Peter smirks but speaks, “Not much, though the alpha pack wasn’t hard to follow. They leave a bloody path in their wake. From what I can tell, it’s the same thing: Deucalion convinces them that in order to gain more power, they need to kill their pack, they do and then bam, they join his little gang. Only, Deucalion has to be top dog. There seems to have been two other alphas in their little pack. When they questioned Deucalion’s right to lead, he killed them and made them an example. It seems he doesn’t like to be questioned.”

“I’m assuming they’re going to try and recruit me,” Derek comments back.

“More than likely. I believe their taking of your betas was a test, to see how much you cared about them. You played right into their hands, dear nephew, though I don’t blame you. You never were that great at reading certain situations. Now, speaking of your betas, spill,” Perter says.

Derek growls at Peter’s words and demand, but explains quickly what happened the week before.

“They say they saw the Stilinski boy?” Peter asks, a thoughtful look on his face as he mulls over Derek’s words.

“According to them, one minute he wasn’t there, the next he was,” Derek says with a shrug. “We checked the next day, but nothing has changed with him. He’s still unconscious, still unresponsive. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were so out of it, they hallucinated, but that still doesn’t explain how the vault door opened.”

“Hmm, I’ll look into it. Though I suggest you speak with Deaton. He might have some ideas,” Peter says with a shrug, seeming unconcerned. “As to your other request, I was unfortunately unable to find any information on the hunters that attacked the boy. They either covered their tracks very well or have some very high up friends. My bet is on some of both. The likelihood of locating them is slim. Unless Argent coughs up some names, I doubt you’ll find them unless you happen upon them one day.”

Derek’s shoulders sag a bit. If even Peter, who excels in finding information, can’t find a trail, he doubts either he or the Sherriff ever will.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower. Try not to do anything stupid before I return,” Peter comments before sauntering up the spiral stair of the loft, ignoring Derek’s growl.

A few minutes later, the door opens again and Isaac comes in, loaded with bags of food for them. He shuts the door and smiles at Derek. “I see Peter’s back,” he says in way of greeting. Derek nods, walking over to grab some of the bags from the teen and heading into the kitchen without saying anything.

An hour later, as the smell of coffee and cooking food permeates the loft, Boyd and Erica come stumbling out of the side room, making a beeline for the food. Derek lets them get first dibs, still seeing how thin they are. They fall on it like…well, wolves.

“Nephew, you need to teach your betas proper table manners,” Peter drawls, coming into the room wearing fresh clothes and smelling clean.

The two betas jump up in surprise at the new face. “It’s okay, he safe, mostly,” Isaac assures them.

“Derek, introductions please,” Peter asks.

“This annoyance is my uncle Peter. I killed him but he doesn’t like to stay dead,” Derek grits out, glaring at the man he still hasn’t forgiven.

“I like to have backup plans, nephew. Something you should consider, seeing as we have an Alpha Pack breathing down our necks,” Perter reminds him.

“Lovely to finally meet you,” he says to the betas, “Now, on to business: making plans,” Peter says, grabbing a cup of coffee before talking more.

~*~

Stiles slowly opens his eyes, groaning at the endless white. He turns his head and finds he’s lying next to the stump of the Nematon. He sees Talia Hale staring down at him, still the form of the Nematon or the consciousness that resides in it or whatever it fucking is. He’s still not sure what exactly the thing is.

Before he can ask, she talks over him, “You’ve been resting for a week.”

Stiles frowns, still not sitting up, “Why?”

“It…is a bit hard to explain, but, in essence all life has magic in it, often called the spark of life and other such names. It connects us to the world, fuels us, and allows certain things, like a consciousness, to form. For some, that is all they have. For others, they have more than is needed to survive. They can learn to use this excess to accomplish things. You humans have many names for it, from magic to different types of energy. You are one such human. Your brush with the supernatural has allowed you to finally tap into this Spark.”

“So I’m what, a wizard or something?” Stiles asks, remembering making the mountain ash barrier to block off the Kanima.

“Use whatever name you want, but yes. Your Spark is what has attuned you to the Nematon and myself. Allowing this contact as you see it,” Talia says with a shrug.

“Does this place even exist?” Stiles asks, finally sitting up, his head feeling like it’s about to fall off before everything settles.

“Physically, no. This is your mind projecting what it knows to allow it to understand the connection we’ve made. I’ve helped in this endeavor by taking forms you know and arranging things to make more sense for your mind. As I was explaining, your Spark is large, and growing. Like a muscle, the more it is used, the more it grows and you used a lot of it up in your attempt to free those betas from their prison. It exhausted you to the point where you could no longer continue to connect with me and went into a resting state while your Spark recovered.” Talia shrugs again like it’s rather simple to her.

“Did they make it?” Stiles asks quickly.

Talia nods, “They are with their Alpha and are on the road to recovery.”

“That’s good to hear,” Stiles says with a sigh, leaning back into the stump.

“Do not let your guard down so quickly, young Spark. Things are not so cut and dry,” Talia says, drawing Stiles gaze up to her piercing red eyes. She nods to the right and Stiles turns to see what she means.

In the distance of the endless white room, two ominous black thunder clouds seem to be building. Beneath the left one stands a single shadowy figure. Stiles can’t see anything defining about them, only that it’s one person. As he watches, a dark pool begins to form around them, lightning flashes briefly and the pool shines red, like blood.

The right has five shadowy figures standing beneath it. He can’t make out any defining features, but five pairs of red eyes stare back at him. Stiles doesn’t need much info to understand the second one.  
“The Alpha Pack?” Stiles asks, looking at Talia.

“Yes. Once honorable Alphas, they have been corrupted by Deucalion who seeks revenge. Gerard took his sight and if he can’t kill Gerard, then he’ll take out the next best thing,” Talia warns.

“Allison and her dad,” Stiles says softly.

“Yes, though it seems he wants to add Derek to his pack first by having him kill his pack. It’s only a matter of time before they try and force his hand,” Talia adds.

“What is the other one?” Stiles asks, glancing at the slowly spreading pool of blood.

“A dark being that is seeking revenge for wrongs placed upon them by those who betrayed them. One of the Alpha Pack wronged them it seems,” Talia comments with a frown.

“Do you know who they are?” Stiles asks, trying to get a better look, but like with everything in this place, they stay frustratingly too far away.

“No, they remain out of my sight. I can say this: they don’t have the power yet to take on the Alpha Pack. They will seek power and that means sacrifices. Much blood will be spilt before they are ready,” Talia explains.

“Who will they sacrifice and to whom?” Stiles asks, standing with a grunt.

“I can’t say who as even they don’t know yet, but as to whom…to me,” Talia says with a shrug.

“Wait…you’re okay with them killing for you? What are you, evil or something?” Stiles asks as he takes a step back before he trips on a root as the stump appears behind him.

Talia’s voice thunders out, the light dimming, “Know this, young Spark, in this world things are not always what they appear. I am neither good nor evil, I simply exist. To try and fit me into one or the other is pointless. Humans have sacrificed to me for centuries, seeking the power I wield. Usually, it is an animal sacrifice but there have been human sacrifices as well. There are many ways to gain power; many think I am the fast way to gain more power. They cannot even begin to fathom the power I wield and many come to regret gaining my power for it comes with a price.”

“And what is the price?” Stiles asks quietly, staring up at the ominously shadowed figure of Talia Hale. Her eyes, as she speaks, seem to become small red stars, shining brighter and brighter. Her voice rumbles out like thunder, shaking Stiles bones and pressing him down.

“Their magic, their spark,” she says, returning to normal.

“I can allow them to do great, unimaginable feats of magic, but it burns up everything in the end, the power too much to truly take,” she says evenly.

“Will that happen to me?” Stiles asks softly.

“No, you have neither offered a sacrifice for my power nor asked for anything that wasn’t within your own limited abilities. You are safe,” she assures.

“So, they get power from you, but it takes their life,” Stiles summarizes.

“Not entirely. It burns away their Spark, taking away their gift and consciousness, but the shell remains intact, still alive. Most remain in an inert state, neither alive nor dead and unable to do anything,” she explains.

“They’re brain dead,” Stiles says and she nods. “Geez, remind me never to sacrifice to you,” Stiles mutters. “So does this person know the price for what they ask for?” Stiles asks.

“I don’t know, nor do I care. Ignorance of the price does not exempt them from the cost they will suffer. Nor will I inform them. Those who seek power for death and destruction seek their own destruction,” Talia sits back, her head turning to look in the opposite direction of the one in the blood pool and just off the side of the Alpha pack.

“A new pawn enters the game,” Talia murmurs, referencing Stiles’ memories of chess.

A dark haired woman is leaned against a brick wall, breathing hard. Stiles can see a small cut bleeding on her arm and watches it heal: a werewolf or something supernatural. She pushes off the wall, stumbling further down what is probably an alley. She keeps glancing back behind her.

The alpha Pack is staring at her, walking towards her, though they never get any closer. Stiles gets it though. They’re after her. “Who is she?” Stiles asks, trying to place why something feels familiar about her.

“A relic of a past I didn’t realize still existed. She just might change things in ways I can’t see,” Talia murmurs, eyes focused on the woman.

“Is she important?” Stiles asks, feeling like the information he’s looking for is on the tip of his tongue.

“Oh, most definitely. Whoever gets their hands on her first will have a large amount of leverage over Alpha Hale,” Talia says, looking at him.

“Can you get me to her?” Stiles asks.

“No, but you can. Focus on her, want to be there, to manifest there and you will,” Talia says and Stiles turns, watching her run, ever looking back, wanting to appear there.

Then he is there. He looks to see Talia isn’t with him this time. He frowns but turns back around. He’s on his own this time. He has a moment to orient himself and realize that he’s somewhere downtown before he hears running feet heading his way. Focusing, he wants to be seen and felt.

As the woman turns the corner, she skids to a stop, staring suspiciously at him, her eyes flashing gold: werewolf confirmed.

“Follow me before they get here,” Stiles says softly, holding out his hand.

She hesitates before a loud growl is heard further away, the darkness of the night closing around them. She grabs his hand.

Stiles pulls her further down the ally, willing the right path to come to him. He leads her through a maze of alleys and side streets, passing people in the night. For a second, he thinks he spies someone he recognizes but he can’t tear his eyes away from his path for fear of losing it and keeps running.

Finally, out of breath, the two of them crash through some bushes and come stumbling out into a small park. The woman snatches her hand back, staring at him warily. Stiles is huffing at the exertion he made, though he knows it’s more magical and not physical.

“Whew, that was close. Wouldn’t want them to get you,” Stiles says by way of greeting.

“Who are you?” she asks, eyeing him up and down.

“A friend, I promise. The Alpha Pack are a nasty bunch and if they want you, then I wasn’t about to let them get you. Look, I can’t do much else for you. You need to either keep running and leave this place or find the leader of the local pack and talk to him about protection,” Stiles says with a shrug.

“Who’s the local Alpha?” she asks intensely.

“His names Derek, Derek Hale. If you can’t find him, hang out around that vet over there,” Stiles says, realizing how close they are to Deaton’s practice. “One of his betas work’s there and so does an emissary. They can help you. Look, I’ve got to go, but don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine,” Stiles assure, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him.

“Hey, what’s your name?” she asks, suddenly.

“Stiles,” he says quickly.

“I’m Cora,” she says gruffly.

“Nice to meet you. Sorry about this, but I’ve got to go. Good luck,” Stiles says and vanishes in front of her.

~*~

Derek glares at Scott as his phone goes off in the middle of the pack meeting. Shrugging, he pulls it out and sees its Deaton calling. “What’s up, Deaton?” he asks quickly.

“Put me on speaker Scott,” Deaton requests and the teen does, looking down. “Something has come up Derek. I need you and Peter to come to my office as soon as possible. Be discrete, I think the Alpha Pack is in the area and we don’t want them find this,” Deaton says over the speaker.

“What are they after?” Derek asks, already standing up.

“Better not say it aloud, just in case. Just get here quickly,” the vet says and hangs up.

Growling in frustration, Derek turns to the teens. “Stay here and don’t go anywhere until we get back.” They nod quickly and Derek shrugs on his jacket, following Peter who is already standing by the door.

~*~

The open sign is still turned to ‘Closed’ on the front door of the vet clinic. Derek doesn’t even hesitate before opening the door. The small bell jingles as the two men step forward into the low light of the vet clinic’s waiting room. They can hear two heart beats.

Deaton comes through the door a second later. “Thank you for coming on such short notice, but it seemed prudent to get you here as quickly as possible.”

“What is this thing the Alpha Pack is after?” Derek asks.

“I think the question you should be asking nephew is who the Alpha Pack is after?” Peter asks, eyeing the vet.

“Astute, as always, Peter,” Deaton says. “You can come in,” Deaton calls and the second heartbeat comes closer.

It takes a second for the two to realize who they’re staring at. It’s been years and the last time they saw her, she was so much younger. “Cora?” Derek whispers, the silence almost physically cut by that one word.

Cora just nods, staring at them a little unsure about what to do. “Hi Derek, Uncle Peter,” she says, shifting on her feet.

Derek surges forward, Peter just behind and they three collide, not really talking, just holding each other.

Ten minutes go by before they finally calm down enough to pull apart. Deaton had stepped into the back to give them privacy but comes back up front when they call. “How?” Derek asks.

“She was here when I came in this morning. Said someone told her to wait here for me or Scott to come in to get help. It seems the Alpha Pack realized who she is and was hoping to get their hands on her as leverage against you Derek,” Deaton summarizes.

“Who around here knows about the Alpha Pack except the pack, Deaton, the Sheriff and the Argents?” Peter asks with a frown.

“She wouldn’t say,” Deaton admits, looking at Cora, who tenses up.

“Look, you wouldn’t believe me, even if I told you,” she grumbles.

“You’d be surprised what we are likely to believe, young lady. Let us decide for ourselves before you assume what we will or will not believe,” Deaton says quietly.

Cora huffs but nods, sitting down in one of the waiting room chair. Derek sits beside her, Peter standing near her and Deaton leans against the counter.

“I was lost in some alleys and could hear them getting close, and suddenly, there’s this guy in front of me. I didn’t hear him ahead, he was just there. He asked me to follow him before they got there and they were close and he seemed like he wanted to help. He…geez, this sounds strange, but he ran faster than I could keep up. I kept almost tripping as we ran, but he seemed to know where he was going because we suddenly came into that little park over there. He told me to either leave town or find you Derek if I needed help with the Alpha Pack and said if I couldn’t find you, to stay near the vet clinic and someone there could help me. Then…then he disappeared,” she says quickly.

“Like he ran off?” Peter asks.

“No, like one second he was there and then the next he was just gone. No foot prints in the dirt, scent, nothing, he was just gone. I thought I was going mad, but I stayed near the clinic and approached Deaton who said he could help and I realized I hadn’t been dreaming,” Cora admits.

“Did he say a name?” Derek asks tersely, the tension mounting.

“Huh, oh, yeah, he said his name is Stiles, why do you know him?” she asks.

Derek glances at Peter whose own expression is guarded. “That’s twice now,” Peter says softly.

“Twice?” Deaton asks.

“Yes. You know that Boyd and Erica recently returned after being held by the Alphas,” Deaton nods, “They said Stiles was the one who opened the vault door they were in. Except that’s…”

“Impossible,” Deaton finishes.

“What, why?” Cora asks suspiciously.

“Mr. Stilinski, whom you seemed to have met, is currently in a coma and has been so for over two months now,” Deaton explains. The vet hums in thought, eyes going distant.

“Deaton?” Peter asks.

“Give me a few hours to research something and meet me at the hospital. Make sure the Sherriff is there as well. He will need to hear this. I suggest you take this time to reacquaint yourselves to each other,” Deaton advices, reminding them of what had just recently happened. With that, he disappears into the back of the clinic, leaving the three werewolves to themselves.

~*~

The three quickly find themselves escorted by Melissa McCall into Stiles’ room. The Sheriff and Deaton are already there. Cora freezes the moment they step in, seeing Stiles splayed out on the bed. “I…I had hoped you were wrong,” she says softly, looking at Derek.

Derek doesn’t say anything, just grips her shoulder and steers her to the side of the room. The Sheriff is seated beside Stiles, gripping his hand. “Deaton, what is this about?”

“I’m sorry to call you out so suddenly, Mark, but this is important. We have two strange incidents in the last week that need to be explained,” Deaton says apologetically.

“But what does this have to do with my son?” Mark asks, glancing at Stiles.

“It seems in both incidents, one with Boyd and Erica, and now Cora, Stiles seemed to have somehow helped them,” Deaton says without beating around the bush.

“My son has been here for over two months, Deaton. You’re wrong,” Mark grits out.

“I don’t believe he was physically there, but I need to perform a test to be sure,” Deaton says. Mark nods uncertainly. Deaton steps forward, turning Stiles hand until it is palm up and pulls something from a pocket, covered in cloth. “I suggest you brace yourselves, this might be bright,” he warns before dropping a clear stone into Stiles upturned hand.

The moment the stone hits his palm, it burn bright with light, nearly blinding the group at the sudden intensity of the light. Deaton quickly grabs the stone with the cloth and steps back, a thoughtful frown on his face.

“What was that?” Derek growls out.

“A test that proves my theory. Stiles is a Spark,” Deaton says without preamble.

“A what?” Mark asks, gripping Stiles hand once more.

“A Spark is a unique human, able to manipulate their own inner spark and do great things with it, should they have the will and fortitude to do it. I showed Stiles how to briefly harness his spark during the Kanima incident, which allowed him to create the mountain ash barrier, but I didn’t know it had grown this much,” Deaton admits.

“So how is he helping people than if he isn’t leaving this room?” Cora asks.

“I can’t say for sure, but I think he might be projecting himself to where he feels needed most. His Spark is large and probably still growing but with enough will and strength, it is conceivable that he can go to places he physically can’t now,” Deaton admits.

“Are you a Spark?” Mark asks, eyeing the vet.

“In a sense, yes, as all who practice some form of arcane arts are. My gifts weren’t as strong as Mr. Stilinski’s here though, so I made a pact with the druidic forces of the natural word, thus giving me a boost but also tying me to them. Stiles’ abilities are all his own though. If, no when he wakes up, he could become very powerful,” Deaton explains.

“Is that why he’s not waking up?” Mark asks, turning to look at his son. The number of wires and tubes connecting to him has been reduced as he healed from the trauma of his attack, but he still looks pale, the harsh light of the room making him look gaunt.

“Honestly, I don’t know. The mind is something we know little about and when magic is added in, it makes it even more complicated. Only time can really say for sure,” Deaton admits. “Have patience.”

~*~

She’s going insane, that’s the only conclusion she can draw. Why else is she seeing things that can’t be there? Lydia huffs softly in annoyance and rips out the page she’s drawing on, eyeing the strange tree she doodled and crumples it and tosses the paper ball into the trash.

She wishes Jackson were here, if only so she could distract herself with him and keep these thoughts away. But he’s in London and from the sound of his texts and emails; he’s losing the battle on convincing his parents to move back to Beacon Hills.

After everything that had happened before, she had hoped she was done seeing things and people that aren’t there. But that doesn’t explain the sight of Stiles running by with a girl she’s never seen before, nor the fact that she knows, from overhearing conversations from that crowd, that he’s still in the hospital.

She tosses her pencil down and stands from her desk. She needs to prove she’s not crazy, which means going to see Stiles herself and confirming once and for all that what she saw last week was just her imagination, no matter how real it looked.

Plan decided, she quickly grabs her purse, stuffs her phone into it, and storms out of the house, ignoring the fact that its night and the visiting hours are over. She needs answers, and she’s not going to wait for when it’s convenient for the hospital to allow it.

~*~

Stiles wakes to the same white nothingness, the hard ridges of roots and bark digging into his back where he’s leaned up against the Nematon’s stump. He sighs lowly, rubbing at his face wearily. He’s honestly getting tired of this place, in spite of how much he’s been able to do since he woke up here.

He misses his bed and his pillow and his dad and Scott and Melissa and even that douche Jackson would be an awesome sight to wake up to instead of this white place, though the last one is only marginally preferable.

“You are sad,” Talia says from beside him and he doesn’t even jump, not surprised that she’s watching over him again while he slept.

“A bit, I guess,” he admits. “I just…when can I wake up?” he asks, not really expecting an answer.

“I don’t know,” she answers, not surprising him at all.

He just hums in understanding and pushes himself up until he can sit on the edge of the stump’s surface. “Did Cora find Derek?” he asks softly.

“Yes, she is with her pack again,” Talia informs him.

“Again?” he asks, looking at her confused.

“She is Derek’s sister, though she has been presumed dead for all these years, hiding from the hunters that killed her family,” she explains.

Stiles can’t help but smile a little at that, glad that for once, something good has happened to the sourwolf. “I’m sure he was glad,” he murmurs.

He glances up, towards the shadowed and clouded area of this space and frowns. The lone figure seems closer than ever, taking on a more feminine physic, though he still can’t see her face. “She’s arrived?” he asks, looking at Talia.

“It would seem so. She has begun to lay down the beginnings of the ritual she will use,” she says and as Stiles looks closer, he can see lines of blood spiraling out from the pool, forming a complex looking symbol under her.

He looks towards the Alpha Pack and freezes as all five pairs of eyes are looking unerringly at him. “They can’t see me, right?” he asks, unnerved.

“As this world doesn’t exist except in your mind they can’t see you. However, it is possible they have become aware of your meddling in their plans. They still wish to recruit the Alpha and if they can’t use his betas, than they will go for the next weak link,” she explains.

“The humans,” Stiles murmurs. He focuses on his dad and an image shows him at the station, busy working on some case. Next he focuses on Melissa and finds her at the hospital working at a computer, hair up in a messy bun. On a whim, he decides to check on Lydia, recalling her involvement with everything before with Jackson and he nearly falls off the stump when he sees her in his room, holding his hand.

“This is happening now?” he asks and Talia nods.

He focuses and suddenly he’s staring at himself, which to be honest is just weird and he’s probably going to need therapy after this. Lydia has her back to him, holding his hand, “I’m being stupid about this,” she mutters, setting his hand down. With a huff, she stands and grabs her purse.

She turns to walk out of the room and freezes, staring straight at him. “What?” she whispers, eyes wide as she looks back at his body and then back at him.

“You can see me?” he asks. He hadn’t tried to make himself visible.

“Yes,” she squeaks out, looking pale. “I’m going crazy,” she hisses, hands trembling.

“No, no, Lydia, you’re not going crazy, I can promise you that,” he quickly assures.

“Then what the hell is going on? I saw you running through town last week and now there are two of you,” she hisses. She reaches out a hand to touch his arm and then jerks back, afraid to confirm the truth.

“Look, it’s complicated but the best way to describe it is an out of body experience plus magic,” he explains in a rush. “And that was me, or this me,” he motions to himself.

“Who was that you were with?” she asks, some of the fear receding.

“Apparently, that was Derek’s long lost sister,” he admits with a look that say “I know, right?” when she stares at him.

“You’re little group of cronies have been acting off, you know, and no one will talk to me. They shy away when I come near and after what happened with Jackson and with Peter, I need to be in the know,” she demands.

“Wait…Peter?” Stiles asks.

“Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t know. He…did something to me, that night at the dance. I thought I was going crazy, seeing him everywhere, and talking to him. He did something to me, used me, to bring himself back to life,” she’s whispering towards the end.

“Alright, that’s…a whole lot of shit to unpack, so we’ll set aside the fact that we have an undead werewolf wandering around. The short of it is there’s a pack of Alpha werewolves in town trying to recruit Derek to their douche club. They took Erica and Boyd, but I helped them escape and then they tried to take Cora but I helped her get away. Now, honestly, I don’t know what their plan is next. But there’s a second problem coming and a lot of people are going to die unless we can figure it out,” he explains in a rush of words.

“That’s…,” she can’t seem to finish her sentence.

“Tell me about it,” he mutters. He’s had no choice but to be calm about everything going on recently but he knows the moment he wakes up and gets some alone time, he’s going to have the biggest panic attack ever. “It’s a lot but at least you’re not going crazy.”

She just sends him a glare for that remark and he grins. “You’re lucky you’re useful, Stilinski or we wouldn’t be talking,” she huffs, but smiles anyways. “How can I see you?” she asks.

“Who know, but let’s worry about that later. For now, it’s just good to talk to someone,” he admits. He glances around, “Where’s Jackson? I thought you two were attached by the lips?” he asks.

Lydia’s expression turns sad, “His parents felt it best to move after everything that happened. He’s in London and it doesn’t look like he’s coming back.”

“Sorry, Lydia, that suck,” he says softly.

“Yeah.”

He feels a tickling sensation across the back of his neck and a tug at some point on his being and suddenly, he’s back in the white area again. “What?” he asks, nearly tripping at the sudden movement.

“Beware, young Spark, they come,” Talia warns and he turns frantically around to see that two of the Alpha Pack seems to have split off and seem to be walking closer towards him here which means they closing in on his body.

“Fuck!” he spits out and pushes back to where Lydia is and freezes when he finds her arguing with Melissa, the woman looking annoyed.

“I know you are close to Stiles, but visiting hours are in place for a reason, Lydia. You can’t just come in like this,” Melissa is saying to a worried looking Lydia whose eyes keep shifting looking for him before finding him.

Cursing, he wills himself solid and speaks up, “We have a problem.”

Melissa jumps and whirls around and her eyes go wide as she double takes. “They…they were right?” she asks.

“I’ll explain everything later,” he promises. “The Alpha Pack is coming here, right now.”

The two women pale, “What? Why?” Melissa asks.

“Because the pack cares about us, but I doubt they will hesitate to take Lydia as well,” he explains quickly.

“What do we do?” Lydia asks, seeming to calm down from the initial shock.

“We need to get my body and the two of you out of here,” he says.

“I can’t just walk out of the hospital with your body, Stiles,” Melissa hisses.

“Yes you can, I can make sure we’re not seen, but if we don’t go, right now, people are going to die, Scott will die trying to get you back,” he explains.

Melissa looks from him, to Lydia and then to his body and she squares her shoulders. “Alright, alright,” she whispers. “Lydia, grab the wheelchair from the closet,” she orders and Lydia rushes to grab it. Melissa goes to the cabinets and starts to pull out IV bags and stuffs them into a bag. She hands it to Lydia to hold.

“This will take a minute. If I shut them off wrong, the alarm will sound and someone will come to check,” she explains, slowly turning the machines off one by one. “Help me get him in the chair,” she says to Lydia and the two wrestle his body onto the wheelchair, quickly wrapping a blanket around his upper torso.

Once they have him settled, Melissa grabs the bag and starts to wheel him out and stops, “The cameras,” she exclaims.

“On it,” Stiles says and focuses on turning the cameras away, making their strange group unseen as they pass.

“Where did you park?” she asks Lydia.

“The visitor parking next to this wing,” she says.

“Good, I know a backway,” Melissa says and takes a sharp right turn down a hall. As the emergency exit closes behind them, “We use it for smoke breaks and the alarm is turned off,” Melissa explains, they move quickly towards the parking area, Lydia’s car one of the few in the lot.

It takes a moment to wrestle his body into the car and get him buckled in, but soon, they’re pulling onto the main road and away from the hospital. “Oh, I could get fired for this,” Melissa murmurs but doesn’t look back.

“I can’t take you home or to Scott’s, they know where that is and my parents are home, but…I think I know one place we can hide out that they won’t think to check,” Lydia admits and floors it.

~*~

“Sherriff,” Margarine calls out from the front desk, frowning, “It’s the hospital calling about your son.”

Mark rushes to his own phone as she transfers the call, “This is Sherriff Stilinski.”

“Sherriff, this is Doctor Mendes, I’ve been overseeing you son’s case. I…I don’t know how to say this but your son is gone,” he admits.

“What!” he shouts.

“The night nurse was doing her rounds and found his bed empty. We’ve searched the hospital and there is no sign of him,” he explains.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes and you better have a damn good explanation as to how someone took _my_ son from _your_ hospital!” he yells into the phone and slams it down on the receiver. The bullpen is silent as he storms through, everyone having heard most of the conversation.

Mark quickly pulls out his phone and calls Derek, “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Get to the hospital, now. Someone took Stiles,” he growls and doesn’t wait for a reply before hanging up and throwing himself into his cruiser, peeling out of the parking lot with his lights flashing.

~*~

Derek, Peter, Scott and the Sherriff are gathered in the empty hospital room, staring at the now empty bed. Doctor Mendes, the one who called, stands awkwardly in the hall, waiting for someone to say something.

“When was he last seen?” mark demands.

Mendes looks down at Stiles’ chart, “9:30 tonight by Nurse Herald Mitchel.”

He glances at his phone, seeing the time reading 11:52 PM. “When are checks done?” he asks.

“Every hour, unless they need closer monitoring,” he explains. “There is no signature for the 10:30 check and we realized he was missing just before the 11:30 check.”

“Who was supposed to make the 10:30 check?” he asks, a tension headache growing in his neck.

Mendes walks over to the nurse station to check a chart and comes back, “Melissa McCall.”

“My mom?” Scott asks.

“We’re looking for her but she hasn’t been seen in at least an hour,” he adds.

“I want your camera footage for the last 12 hours, and I want it now,” Mark orders.

“Yes, of course. It will take a bit but we’ll get it,” he assures and hurries off.

He waits until they’re alone before looking at the werewolves, “Anything?”

They breathe deep, eyes closing as they pick apart the scents of the room, “Mom was here,” Scott speaks up.

“Stiles as well, but no scents of blood or fear,” Derek says with a roll of his shoulders.

“Hmm, I smell perfume,” Peter murmurs, taking another breath. “It’s recent, but it covers up the scent of whoever was wearing it unfortunately.”

“So Mom was here and another woman maybe?” Scott speaks up.

“I’m going to speak with the nurses and see if they noticed anything strange. See if you three can find anything,” he orders and steps out of the room.

They split up and Scott head for the locker room. He knows her combination from time getting stuff from it for her. Inside, he finds her purse, phone and wallet. He sniffs around but nothing stands out. Derek and Peter follow the trail of Stiles’ scent and the perfume. It winds through the halls before coming to an emergency exit that’s propped open, a nurse standing outside smoking a cigarette.

“Is this always unlocked?” Peter asks.

“No, we keep it closed when not smoking. It can’t be opened from the outside without a key,” she explains.

“So only people who work here know about it,” Peter says.

“Probably,” she says.

Nodding, they keep following the trail until it ends in the visitor parking lot, the smell of gas and rubber covering up any trail that might have remained. “We’ll nephew, this is certainly a mystery.”

“Do you think it was the Alpha Pack?” Derek asks quietly, eyes scanning the tree line.

“Doubtful, they’re not very…subtle. And someone shut down the machines without triggering an alarm,” he says.

“You think Melissa did this?”

“It’s possible she was coerced,” he admits.

“Fuck,” Derek hisses, turning and heading back to the hospital to meet up with the others.

Mark speaks up first, “They went through the rest of the paperwork for other patients. Melissa’s initials are on their charts but they stop just before Stiles’. No one has seen her in over an hour as well.”

“Mom’s things are still in her locker as well,” Scott adds.

“Someone unhooked Stiles from the machines without setting them off. Only someone knowledgeable of them would know how. As well, the trail ends in the visitor parking lot where a car was parked. They went through a disabled emergency exit used by employees for smoke breaks that few outside of the hospital would know about. So, either Melissa took Stiles herself, or someone forced her, perhaps by threatening Stiles,” Peter sums up.

“That doesn’t explain who was with her though. None of the Alpha Pack wears perfume,” Derek growls.

“Perhaps they used it to cover their scent or maybe one has decided to start wearing it. I can’t say for sure,” Peter says with a shrug.

“I’ve got the camera footage. That should shed some light,” Mark adds, holding up a USB drive.

“Let’s head back to the loft,” Derek orders.

~*~

Lydia sighs as she and Melissa finish settling Stiles onto the bed. She’s so glad she kept Jackson’s key and that they decided not to sell their house. Tucked away behind brick walls, few can see the lights on in the rear guest rooms of the house.

“We’ll need to make a food run,” Melissa says, looking around worriedly at the dusty room. “And I can’t go since they’re probably already looking for me. Also, I left my purse.”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry,” Lydia says, grabbing her purse.

“I’ll see if I can’t get rid of most of this dust,” Melissa says with a glare to the dust cover they pulled off the bed.

“Is he back?” she asks as Lydia turns to leave.

“I don’t see him but he said he might not be back for a while as he rested, so we’ll just need to wait,” Lydia says with a shrug.

“Alright,” Melissa murmurs, looking to the body in the bed, a makeshift coatrack turned IV stand, holding up the fluid pouch attached to his arm.

~*~

The pack is gathered in the loft when they return with the news of Stiles and possibly Melissa’s kidnapping. Peter grabs his laptop and a couple of cables and proceeds to mess around behind the TV. “What are you doing?” Derek asks.

“We’ve only got the one USB and as far as I know, my laptop’s the only one in the loft. I’m not watching all this footage by myself,” he explains, stepping back and unraveling the cord to his laptops. Plugging it in, he inserts the USB and pulls of the fills.

“Well, let’s start with the obvious footage,” he says and pulls up the fill for the camera in the hall that Stiles’ room was located. He speeds it up until they reach the 10 o’clock marker and then lets it play at real time. The room is silent as they watch the hall, a few people passing through but none stopping at Stiles’ door.

At 10:10, a figure in a dark hoodie with the hood up and their back to the camera walks into view and stops at Stiles’ door. “Our perfume wearer, I would guess,” Peter speaks up. They can’t see anything to identify her as she enters, they can’t see her face.

Fifteen minutes pass before they see Melissa coming from the opposite direction on her way to check over Stiles. She opens the door and frowns at something before entering, the door shutting behind her. They watch for twenty minutes and see no one exit the room. Frowning, Peter speeds it up again, running through to 11:23 when the next nurse to check on Stiles shows up and sees he’s missing before rushing off.

“No one left the room,” Scott says softly. As the footage keeps playing until it shows their arrival.

“You followed a trail?” Cora asks and Derek and Peter nod.

“Rewind it to just when the girl shows up,” Mark orders and Peter complies and then hits play. They watch again. “Pause it and rewind two minutes,” he says and Peter does. “There,” he says and stands to point to the upper corner of the screen. “Rewind again and then watch.”

They do and see as the time suddenly skips around thirty seconds of footage. “Has this been altered?” Mark asks Peter.

“As far as I can tell, no, it’s the original footage, but I’ll admit my abilities are a little dated as of late. Maybe someone more skilled might be able to figure out what happened,” Peter says with a shrug.

“Danny is good with this stuff,” Isaac speaks up.

“Let’s not get him involved unless we absolutely need to,” Mark says, frowning. “We need to figure out who the woman was. Melissa seemed to know her, or at least recognize her,” he adds.

“Main entrance it is,” Peter mutters and searches for the file. They watch through but see no sign of her.

“Are there any other entrances, Scott?” Peter asks.

“Uh, the Emergency Room entrance, plus a couple of employee entrances but those require a card,” he says.

They see her enter through the Emergency Room entrance, her face hidden by the edge of her hood as she slips past a distracted nurse and head deeper into the hospital. The net few cameras don’t show a good angle but finally, just before she reaches Stiles’ room, she turns a corner and there, in full view of the camera, is Lydia. Her hair is pulled back and her face determined as she heads for the room.

“Lydia was in there?” Erica speaks up.

“Why?” Isaac asks.

“Does anyone have her phone number?” Scott asks and they shake their heads no. “Alright, I’ll text Allison for it, but that doesn’t explain where they are.”

“I’m going to check at her address,” Mark speaks up, standing. “Keep watching and see if you can find anything else out.”

“I’m going with you,” Derek says, standing to follow and Mark nods.

“Who’s Lydia?” Cora asks softly to Boyd.

“A classmate and she knows about us. Her boyfriend was Derek’s first bite and he turned into a Kanima,” Isaac explains quickly.

“What?” she asks but Derek is already gone.

“Also, she apparently helped bring Peter back from the dead,” Scott adds with a glare at the man who just grins lazily and continues to watch the footage.

“What!”

**End.**


End file.
